Breaking the Berserker
by OstelanExcruciasm
Summary: Saix is about to give birth, but can he do it without berserking? WARNING: CONTAINS MPREG AND GRAPHIC BIRTH
1. Chapter 1

"Here are the mission briefings," Saïx leaned heavily against the door frame and held out a stack of papers to Xigbar, keeping his voice low and inconspicuous. "Hand them out and collect the reports when everyone comes back." He reduced his volume even further, averting his eyes. "I've already given one to Axel."

Xigbar raised an eyebrow, peering at him with something like concern on his face. "You okay? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine. I just need to lie down."

Xigbar shrugged. "Well, alright. You want me to come check on you later?"

Saïx paused for a moment, thinking. His better judgment said yes, but his instincts said no. He _needed_ someone to knock the berserk out of him if he became weak enough to succumb to it. Fear and pain were more than enough to trigger the transformation — it responded to _any_ threat, real or perceived. He could see it now — Xigbar would barge through the door and catch him in the throes of childbirth, fully immersed in his berserk state and tearing up the mattress with his bare hands. He'd never live it down.

_Calm the hell down. _Saïx chided himself for his anxiety. Zexion had said it could take days. He hadn't even confirmed that it was happening yet. All of this could be a false alarm. He could just take a nap and Xigbar would find him sound asleep, no worse for wear. The pains were still moderate and spaced. There was plenty of time.

"Perhaps," he finally answered. "Four hours."

"Can do, buddy."

He narrowed his eyes at the man, resentful of the silly, affectionate pet name, but let it drop, too distracted by the slowly mounting pain to be annoyed. He folded his arms and the two shared a nod. The pain was still climbing as Xigbar meandered aimlessly down the hall. Stoic and composed as he ever was, Saïx never let his stone face falter in the slightest, even as the spasm reached a peak and crashed inside him. He maintained his expert poise until the very moment Xigbar was out of sight. The door closed and he let himself collapse, quietly allowing the contraction to run its course. It was even stronger than the last one, and he could have sworn that only a few minutes had passed since then. He put the thought from his mind. Zexion had said this would happen — that it was all quite normal. Panicking would only make it worse. He was ordered to rest, and resting was exactly what he intended to do.

He spent most of the next hour in bed, weary of the disorienting waver in his steps when he walked. Certain that he would not be lucky enough to fall asleep, he closed his eyes and silently meditated. The pains came and went, each one arriving rather unexpectedly. Although Zexion had insisted that he time them, he ignored the clock, refusing to measure the frequency. If there was a pattern to the spasms, he didn't want to know about it. There would come a time when all of that would matter, but that time was not now.

Another hour passed without incident, and he began to wonder what was taking so long. Had the entire process stalled? Perhaps it wasn't his time after all. Boredom set in quickly, and the room was soon starting to feel warm and stuffy. He almost considered going down to the Grey Area to relieve Xigbar, if only to alleviate the restlessness. Remembering Zexion's advice, he attempted a brief walk. His pace was infuriatingly slow, and at times it felt like he was dragging himself along, sliding against the wall to keep from falling. Despite his frustration, it worked. It only took a few short laps to restart everything. The pains returned with a vengeance, rapidly intensifying. He felt his knees weaken whenever they struck, threatening to drop him to the floor. With difficulty, he staggered back to his room, questioning whether or not the walk was a smart idea.

It was a happy coincidence that he was not in bed when the sudden rush of fluid spilled from him. There was no warning to it. He had just made it through the door when the floodgates opened and a sizeable puddle formed at his feet, startling him. _Shit. _He froze when he recognized it. Zexion mentioned this. The pains could all be brushed off, the disorientation and nausea could be explained away, but this was the one symptom that couldn't be ignored. This was the universal signal that he'd been dreading. It couldn't be. Not now. He wasn't ready.

As time went on, the gradual increase in the severity of the pain felt more and more like a test of his resolve, an exercise in endurance. He shifted positions a number of times in the interest of making himself comfortable, yet never found any relief. All he knew to do was breathe and accept it. Every inhale was deep and exaggerated and every exhale was forced and slow. He closed his eyes, tightly gripping the headboard and waiting it out. The pressure released him at last and he sighed heavily as his muscles relaxed in unison. All things considered, he thought it was going quite well. Surely it wouldn't be much longer now, and perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as Zexion had described.

There was no sense prolonging the inevitable. When it was clear that he'd passed the point of no return, he figured he should begin preparing himself. Saïx skimmed through the steps in his mind, going back over everything Zexion had said. _It's out of your hands. You're no longer in charge._ More so than any of the pain, he was wary of that sense of helplessness. The very idea that he would have to just stand back and watch while his own body brutalized him, having no control over any of his faculties and reducing himself to a weeping, uncivilized coward, was by far the most frightening part of the ordeal. It almost made the berserk seem worth it — blasting through the halls in a beastly rampage suddenly felt much less unsettling than what he would have to do instead. Perhaps he could just black out and wake up to find the wretched creature having vacated his body of its own accord. It would be so easy. He could already feel the moon's power coursing through him.

He was positive he'd just finished one contraction when another one rolled in. Once again, he wasn't ready. It gripped him hard and knocked the wind out of him, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe at all. It was smothering him. Zexion's instructions whispered in his mind. _In for two, out for four. Blow hard. _It wasn't helping. None of it was making a dent in the pain. His bloodshot eyes were watering. His grasp on the headboard was so fierce that he nearly bent the bars. He was starting to panic. He lifted his knees and dug his heels into the mattress — anything that might counter the thunderous pressure clenching inside of him. The pains surged through him at a sickening pace, and he often had to bite down onto a pillow to keep quiet. He was no stranger to suffering, and he would do so gracefully. There would be no moaning or wailing. He would not squeal like a woman or roar like an animal. He would not cry like a child. He would do this with dignity. He would lie there in bed and he would wait patiently for it to be over. Zexion had insisted that he wouldn't have any authority over the process. _The hell I won't._ He was strong. He would not let this break him.

His fierce determination to remain silent and composed lasted all of ten minutes. There was a moment when the pain and pressure skyrocketed in tandem, ripping through him so powerfully that he saw stars. The forceful explosion drew a shout from his lips, and he quickly stifled himself before he could be heard. In desperation, he caught a glimpse of the moon beaming through his window. Its radiance seemed to caress him softly, enfolding him in its embrace as if to comfort him. It beckoned him, guiding him into the berserk one small step at a time. It promised that relief was waiting on the other side. He wouldn't be in pain. He wouldn't be afraid. Saïx couldn't resist. It called to him and he answered. In a moment of weakness, he let it overtake him. His consciousness began to fade as the energy of the moon replaced it. His mind was being wiped clean. Completely blank. He no longer had to think about anything. It was perfect. He could just let go.

"Whoa, man, snap out of it!"

There were hands on his shoulders, shaking him lightly. He could hear the voice but did not recognize it. He clung to the berserk, his only escape from the pain.

"Listen, man, you don't want to do this. It's dangerous."

The voice was familiar now. The haze in his vision was clearing and he could soon identify the person who had come. Xigbar was standing beside the bed, looking more worried than Saïx had ever seen before.

"Wh-What are you doing here…?"

"It's been four hours. You said I should come check on you," he answered apprehensively, unwilling to let go of him for the moment. "Looks like it's a good thing I did."

Saïx shrugged out of his grasp and sat back on his heels, brushing the sweat from his brow and catching his breath. Now that Xigbar had seen him, there was no hiding this. Sooner or later, he was probably going to summon Zexion. The scientists would come and before he knew it, he would be on display for half the Organization's prying eyes to gawk at him like an animal in a cage. He reached for Xigbar and clasped his fingers around his collar.

"Thank you for coming. You may go now."

"Are you crazy? And leave you alone like this? I think I should go and get—"

"Don't bring Zexion here," he snapped, cutting the man off. "Just leave me be. I can handle this."

"You were about to berserk when I came in here. I don't think you're handling it that well."

"And just what would you know about—?!"

Saïx's retort was interrupted by another strike from the painful spasms. He pursed his lips and forced himself into silence while he let it wash over him. He hadn't realized that he was still gripping Xigbar's collar until he felt his hand on his arm.

"Hey, take it easy…" Xigbar muttered with obvious nerves in his voice. "Just relax…"

Saïx could not talk through the contractions. The pain was simply too great and the pressure too powerful. It was ringing in his ears so loudly that he couldn't make out the words coming from Xigbar's muffled voice talking him down, holding him back from berserking again, giving him instructions he couldn't understand. As noble a cause as it was, he still chastised the man for foolishly putting himself in harm's way.

"Xigbar," he croaked. "It is not safe… If you know what's good for you, you'll leave now while you still can…"

"Pfft," Xigbar scoffed, chuckling lightly. "Don't flatter yourself. Besides, it's not safe for you either."

"I'll be fine," Saïx insisted, finally having made it through and allowing himself to be still again. "It won't be long…"

"Really?" Xigbar gulped. "How often are they coming?"

Saïx glanced at the clock. "Under four minutes…"

The anxiety in Xigbar's voice was unmistakable. It was almost jarring to hear it — Saïx had never heard him sounding so fearful even when they were human, and he wondered just how much the man knew about what was happening to him.

"Shit… you sure you don't want me to get Zexion?"

Saïx was gradually slowing his breathing, filling and emptying his lungs completely and letting the tension in his muscles release. He dared not move — he'd finally found a comfortable position and wasn't about to muck it up now. "I don't need Zexion. Just… stay back and let me do this."

Xigbar, seeing no point to arguing the issue further, pulled up a chair from the desk and hesitantly lowered into it. "So it's, uh… it's really coming?"

"Yes, it is," Saïx nodded, emitting another long exhale. "Impeccable timing…"

Cringing and obviously uncomfortable, Xigbar shifted in his seat. "I didn't know it would hurt."

In truth, Saïx didn't either. He knew that it would be painful, of course, but he never would have imagined the magnitude of it. Suddenly, all of Zexion's preparatory advice seemed inadequate. This was far beyond anything Saïx could have expected and he wasn't certain he'd survive it without handing himself over to the moon. "Don't be silly," he grunted. "It doesn't hurt at all."

"Anything I can do?"

"I don't think so…"

He winced, the aftershocks still dissipating and leaving miniature spasms in their wake. The entire process was madenning. The contractions bombarded him like a gauntlet, whittling him down bit by bit. Every time he wanted to relax, he was hit with another clench, throttling him mercilessly until his ears popped. He was given no time to rest, no chance to breathe. He was tired. He was tired of the pain. Tired of the waiting. He crouched in the same place on his mattress where he'd been for hours now, naked, covered in sweat and with his body quaking and heaving out of his control. His only company were Xigbar and the moon, both with their piercing eyes fixed upon the spectacle that he had become. Never once did he consider the terrifying vulnerability of this experience. It never dawned on him just how intimate the atmosphere would be, or how gruesome and macabre it all looked. He never knew he would feel so _weak_. He'd have told Axel everything. He'd have begged him to stay. He longed to touch him, to squeeze his hand, to throw his arms around him and cry into his shoulder. Had he only known he would need him this badly, he would have never let him leave.

Another blow from his abdomen took him by surprise and he hissed, holding his breath as his fingers curled into fists.

"Again? Already?" Xigbar asked with a hint of dread in his voice.

Saïx couldn't answer. The pressure was so forceful that it squeezed the breath right out of him. Despite his efforts to contain himself, he weathered the pain with low, guttural groans and frantic wheezing, tightly clutching the sheets in his hands. He could feel something inside him opening. Something was shifting into place and pressing low in his pelvis. It was as if his own skeleton had decided to just spread apart to allow space for the creature to pass through. The sensation was excruciating and terrifying and repulsive all at once. Why was this necessary? Would it be that large? Saïx was overcome with nausea, and this time it was clear that his stomach would make good on its threats. He hopped off the bed and vomited into a nearby wastebasket. He retched again and again until the contraction had died down and his already empty stomach was sore.

"Ah jeez, okay…" Xigbar slid out of his chair and knelt beside him, hunched over his wastebasket and too weak to move. "Are you done? Do you want to get up?"

Saïx could only nod. He let Xigbar take him by the arms and lift him back onto the bed, panting and sweeping his hair out of his face. His mind was spinning with useless questions and worst case scenarios. What if he couldn't do it? What if it simply exploded out of him, killing him in the process? What if he berserked and destroyed the creature? Every fleeting thought was another panicked "what if," and Saïx once again turned to the moon. He didn't have to think when he was berserking. It was all instinct. He could enjoy a blank mind, release from the pressure, an end to the pain…

"Hey, hey, Saïx, come back. Don't you go doing that moon thing again."

Xigbar was nudging him, jerking him back to reality. He pried his eyes from the window, filled with foreboding as he felt the pressure beginning to rise again. Another glance at the clock reminded him of just how close he really was. It hadn't even been three minutes.

The contraction built to a powerful apex and burst into waves of torturous agony. Saïx bit his lip, the only thing he could do to contain the anguished cries that would have erupted from him. His back arched, bending his body to accommodate the horrendous forces at work in his core. Was this the signal Zexion had warned him about? How would he know?

There was suddenly a new warmth, a wetness spilling from him again. It drenched his legs and soaked into the bed. He caught his breath at the appearance of bright red staining onto the white sheets. "No…"

"What happened?"

It was no small amount of blood. It was enough to concern even him. He froze, holding his breath while he stared at it, watching it flow freely as if it weren't necessary to keep him alive.

"Whoa!" Xigbar recoiled, shielding his eye. "I did not sign up for this part, Saïx!"

Saïx ignored him, intently focused on the steadily growing puddle beneath him. He hadn't anticipated blood. He hadn't prepared for blood. Certainly not to lose this much of it. Unfortunately, he was not given time to panic.

"Xigbar…" he gasped. "Get a towel, it's happening…"

"Wait, now?!"

"_Now, Xigbar!"_

* * *

Saïx couldn't decide if he was grateful for or weary of the sudden acceleration of the process. The contractions barreled through him with powerful crests of pain and pressure, pulsing under his skin and radiating from his center and outward. His entire body seized up, every muscle tensing in response. His participation was compulsory. Involuntary. The pressure led the way and he followed, gritting his teeth, tucking his chin, and obeying its commands.

"Oh shit, Saïx, are you—?"

Saïx could barely hear him. He tried to take in a breath, only managing a shallow gasp. He had to stop this. It was too soon. He needed to wait for Axel. He couldn't do this without him. He tried to remember the breathing exercises Zexion had taught him, but it seemed that he was rapidly forgetting everything the young apprentice had said. _Blow hard, blow hard, blow hard… _Saïx closed his eyes and watched the demonstration in his mind, sucking in air and blowing it out as forcefully as he could. He kept his breathing rhythmic, just mesmerizing enough to distract him from the pain until it finally subsided.

"Xigbar," he whispered, completely winded. "I can feel it descending. It will come soon…" He shifted onto his knees, absentmindedly rocking back and forth, no longer content or comfortable to remain still. "Suffice to say, this is getting pretty intense. I am at greater risk of succumbing to the moon's influence…"

"Don't you worry. I'll stick around and make sure the berserk doesn't get ya."

"It's becoming much more difficult to relax," Saïx pressed into the mattress, taking the weight off of his back while he tried to level his breaths. "Even a fraction of a second's panic is enough to trigger it. I must remain calm or I might be overtaken…"

"Well, hey, you've been doing great so far."

Saïx paused, taken aback by the unexpected praise. He shot a suspicious look in Xigbar's direction, only to be met with an uncharacteristically soft expression on the man's face. "Thanks…"

"Don't mention it," Xigbar casually leaned onto the mattress, scooting forward in his chair. "So, need anything? Some water? More towels?"

"No," Saïx shook his head, finally feeling safe to rest a moment while waiting for the next contraction. "Xigbar, listen… You don't have to do anything. I don't need any guidance or comfort. You don't even have to watch. I'll take care of it all and I won't ask you for any help," he endeavored to speed up his request when he felt another spasm building. "But, other than Axel, you're the only one I trust to keep me away from the berserk… or to drag me back out of it, should I fall in. Zexion would be totally defenseless. That's why I—"

There was no climbing to the peak this time. The pain clobbered him without warning, fierce, intense, and quick. He doubled over, crying out before he could stop himself. He reached for Xigbar's wrist and clasped his fingers tightly around it. The moon had him in its grasp almost instantly and he surrendered to its advances. His vision began to blur and darken and his mind was emptying all over again.

"No you don't, Saïx," Xigbar commanded sternly. "You stay here with me. None of that moon business. You don't need the berserk."

"The moon's call…"

"Don't you listen to a word it says. It's all lies."

"Can you feel its power…?"

"Hey, look at me. Look at me, man," he took Saïx by the shoulders and forced his compliance. "You gotta do this on your own. No moon powers."

Following Xigbar's voice, Saïx clawed his way out of the berserk and back into consciousness. He could vividly recall the conversation he'd had with Zexion about pain management. A dozen breathing techniques, hours of meditation, all the squeezing and moaning and kneeling and squatting in the world, and absolutely none of it could ease the crippling pain and thunderous pressure that was waiting for him when he returned. To his surprise, for just a brief moment, he wished Zexion were present. Perhaps it was something about the delicate way his hands touched his patients or the gentle sound of his voice when he spoke, but the young apprentice had a way of making even the most grisly injuries less painful, and could soothe the worst panic with incredible ease. But, it was out of the question. Zexion was small and weak. Saïx, in his berserk state, would obliterate him. He wouldn't have a chance in hell. It was for his own good that he wasn't there, except as a disembodied voice in Saïx's mind. _Blow hard, blow hard, blow hard…_

"There, see? That's good. Just keep doing that."

Saïx nodded, keeping up the steady breathing until finally the contraction ceased. He relaxed his grip on Xigbar's wrist, and in turn Xigbar released his shoulders. He collapsed into the pillow, panting heavily, and was shocked when he felt a towel being pressed into his forehead, mopping the sweat from his brow and the few tears that had escaped his eyes. It was unlike Xigbar to be so thoughtful. Saïx figured he'd have scared the man off hours ago. For once, he was glad that he hadn't. If he'd been left alone, he'd have given up already and let himself berserk. Although he never once doubted his strength or his fortitude, he was beginning to wonder how the hell he was going to manage the rest of this if he was already _this_ exhausted. He hadn't even done anything yet.

Saïx spent the next several contractions on his back, biding his time and conserving his energy. He tried to rest between them and count the minutes, but they never once gave him enough time to fully relax. It was all too much. The pain was indescribable. The fatigue wore him down. The fear drummed in his chest. He was completely overwhelmed. It required all of his resolve to keep from crying in despair. No matter how bad it would get, he would not let it break him.

Xigbar kept his distance for the most part, on Saïx's request. He didn't step in unless it was asked of him, and was clearly unsettled by the entire ordeal. Even so, his presence was more helpful than not. Every time Saïx started to berserk, his comrade yanked him back. It was going rather smoothly until the contractions neared the one minute mark. Saïx was twenty seconds into a particularly unforgiving spasm when the pressure ascended to a staggering height and beat him into submission. The pain was blinding. Suffocating. He was certain he would vomit again. The berserk took him quickly and without any fuss. Almost immediately he could feel Xigbar leaning over him, holding him down by the wrists. He struggled against the restraints, writhing and thrashing with the intensity of the pain, bucking his hips to alleviate the pressure. He roared with wild abandon and fought against his diligent anchor tooth and nail.

"Saïx, just calm down. I don't want to have to—"

"_Get away!"_

"Focus on my voice, okay? Block out the moon and do that weird breathing thing you were doing. You want me to do it with you?"

"_The moon shines down!"_

"Not in here, it doesn't. Now quit screaming and relax. Just _breathe_, man…"

It was no use. Even the moon could no longer ease the pain. Saïx cast off the berserk with a shuddering gasp and his eyes widened as his vision returned to him. Tears fell down his cheeks as the pressure crushed the life out of him and he realized that he was out of time. A powerful impulse was awakening inside him and he was compelled to act on it. He could feel the creature sinking, could feel his own muscles working to bring it out. There was nothing more he could do to stop it. Instinct was taking over and he had no choice but to comply.

"It's coming…"

"Are you sure?"

Saïx reiterated with growing urgency in his voice. "I can feel—" the pressure choked him and cut him off. This was it. This was the signal. "Oh no… Xigbar, I think I'm supposed to push now…"

"Oh boy…" Xigbar recoiled slightly. "Uh, you don't need me for that, right?"

"No, just get off me, I have to start now!"

With help, Saïx turned back onto his knees, laying down a towel while his mind buzzed with questions. He wondered how long the next stage would last. He wondered how hard it would be. He wondered if he would really be strong enough. He wondered if he would survive. He wondered what Axel would say. What he would think when he found out that _this _is what Saïx had been doing all day while he was out on a throwaway mission. He wondered if the man would ever forgive him.

And then, at the end of all this, what would come out of him? Vexen and Zexion had insisted that it would have the appearance of a human infant. It was still a replica, but would look and act like a baby. It would have the consciousness of a baby, all the needs of a baby, all the functions of a baby. The thought alone sent a chill over Saïx's body. He didn't know how to care for a baby, and he assumed none of his boneheaded comrades did, either. It didn't matter anyway — it wasn't a real baby, and it wasn't his. It was a science experiment. It would always be just a 'creature' to him.

Having ensured that everything was set, Xigbar stepped back. "Okay. Well, you just do your thing, then. I'll be over here."

_It will hurt. It will scare you. It will overwhelm you. You will want to fight it. You will want to control it. But you can't, so don't try. _Zexion's words were prophetic in how true they were. Saïx took several deep breaths, revitalizing his body to ready himself. This was going to happen whether he participated or not. He just had to accept it. Let everything go. Surrender completely.

The faint beginnings of a contraction were bubbling in his abdomen. He knew what to do. Zexion insisted that he would. He was supposed to 'just know' how it worked and when to act. He kept breathing, waiting for the peak to arrive so that he could begin. All at once, it happened, and he froze. Everything went dark for a moment as his nerves got the better of him. Xigbar was just sitting there, waiting, watching. Saïx held his breath, unable to process the sensations through their dizzying intensity. He felt like a stage performer who'd forgotten all of his lines. He couldn't think at all. He could only feel, and everything he felt was excruciating pain, vicious pressure, and paralyzing fear.

"What's wrong?" Xigbar inquired. "You remember what to do, right?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, there's no rush, but you sounded pretty determined a minute ago."

"I…" he swallowed. "I panicked."

Xigbar softened some. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. You're a tough cookie. You got it."

_Your body will tell you when, and when it does, rear back and push like a maniac… _It was now or never. Saïx took a breath and bore down with everything he had. His face and body contorted with effort and as every muscle he had joined the fight. He counted to ten and stopped when he ran out of air, then dove back in a few more times before the pressure finally wound down. Sweat poured down his temples and his body was completely spent.

Xigbar, who had been silently watching the whole time, approached cautiously and applied a towel to his face. "Nice job, man! That was awesome!"

"I'm not done…"

_It's not so bad… _There was hardly any time to rest. The pain came back, the pressure nudged him and he was forced to continue, burying his face in a pillow so that his grunting and groaning wouldn't be heard. Xigbar gradually took on a slightly more active role in the process, at the very least standing beside him instead of sitting in a chair several feet away. Saïx eventually came to appreciate the feeling of his hand resting timidly on his back. His words were gentle, and his unusually soft voice was enough to pull him through every second of powerful straining. He didn't think the man had it in him to be so weirdly helpful.

On the one hand, it was invigorating to finally take action and move things along, knowing that it would soon end. He eventually accepted that he couldn't do it quietly. As embarrassing as it was, it felt _good _to scream and curse and groan until his voice was shot. The whole thing was disgustingly primal and he could only embrace it. His dignity was long gone anyway.

On the other hand, pushing was _awful. _The force of the strain was such that he feared he'd break in half, and it didn't stop for an instant. He could scarcely even pause for a breath. It was better than just lying there and taking it, but it was still _awful_. Giving birth was _awful_. It was far too easy to panic, to get angry, to get scared… and the moon waited patiently every second for his resolve to slip.

He thought he would feel a change inside him to indicate whether or not he was doing it properly. Movement, perhaps. He felt nothing. It was like trying to push over a building. How would he know if he was making any progress at all? Over and over he did the only thing that felt right and natural, yet he seemed no closer to the end than when he'd started.

As if on cue, Saïx soon recognized the uncomfortable feeling of the creature nearing its exit, but was not prepared for what came immediately afterward. The odd, repulsive opening sensation switched to a sharp sting — the excruciating feeling of being split open from the inside. Saïx waited, hoping it might pass. It didn't, and the creature descended further, ripping him apart, intensifying the pain with every agonizing centimeter. His eyes watered and he held his breath, gritting his teeth until he was sure he'd break them.

"Yikes, man…" Xigbar leaned in. "You okay? What's the matter?"

"It's crowning…" he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Gross," Xigbar wrinkled his nose. "You, uh… you want something to bite down on?"

Unable to speak, Saïx shook his head. He tried to breathe — tried to restrain himself. He wanted to shift so that gravity wouldn't pull so forcefully, but he dared not move. Xigbar stayed close by, mercifully, and Saïx grasped his wrist when another contraction pummeled him. He covered his mouth and groaned loudly, his entire body heaving with his labored breaths while he fought the overwhelming desire to bear down.

If he wasn't already dying, he certainly wished that he was. He would have endured several more hours, even days of contractions if it meant that the pain he felt now would stop. Overcome with panic, he bit down onto his own hand, sinking his teeth deeply into the skin to fight the urge to cry. _This can't be normal. No function in nature could possibly be this agonizing _intentionally. _Something has to be wrong. _His inner monologue was interrupted by another piercing strike. The searing pain was positively savage. This damn thing was going to tear him to shreds. He couldn't fathom how anyone on any world would ever _volunteer _for this senseless torture.

"_Fucking hell, Xigbar…!"_

"Hey, man, stay calm. Do you need to push again? Would that help?"

Saïx was in no state to answer. He clenched his jaw hard, hiding his face and crying in anguish. Tears flooded down his cheeks, melting into the sheet below. The pain of the creature's emergence was some of the worst he'd ever felt — like being cut open with a hot knife. He feared he might pass out if it didn't stop soon. But it wasn't going to stop. It was going to destroy him. He nearly vomited from the sheer intensity of the pain and was ready to give up when he felt the moon's caress. His berserk state activated almost immediately and he involuntarily sent a shockwave through the room. Xigbar just barely dodged it, quickly returning to his side to bring him out.

"Get ahold of yourself, man. You really want to give up when you're this close?"

"Moon… shine down…"

"None of that. Listen to me, Saïx. If you don't come out of this, I'm gonna have to fight you to bring you back. Don't make me do that."

He lunged his body at Xigbar, fangs bared, clawing and swiping at him every chance he could. He bellowed and roared through the violent strain of his contractions, reaching out to clasp his fingers around the man's throat. "_I call on the moon's pale light!"_

Xigbar would not yield, finally wrestling him down and raising his voice. "_Isa! _ Pull yourself together! You got a job to do, now squeeze my hand and get to work!"

Something changed. The sound of his human name triggered a welcome sense of clarity, and Saïx came out of the berserk with a rattling sigh, coughing and sputtering as he let himself fall into a slump. It was gone. At last, the horrendous, burning pain was gone, replaced with a glorious sensation of relief.

"That's better," Xigbar snapped, letting him go and sitting on the bed in front of him.

"Xigbar…" Saix gasped as his body began to shake.

"What's up?"

Saïx swallowed hard. "Its head is out…"

"Well that's good, right?" Xigbar smiled almost excitedly. "It means you're almost done!"

"Right…" Saïx hadn't even caught his breath when he felt what he hoped would be his last contraction mounting. "One more push should do it…"

"Well then give it all you got, man. You're almost there."

Xigbar wasn't so bad a partner, Saïx supposed. He wasn't Axel and he wasn't Zexion, but he wasn't Xemnas either. His nonchalant personality was well suited for coaching and he refused to stand for any needless distractions or pitiful whining. To him, the only task of any importance here was to get this damned thing out by whatever means necessary and ensure that Saïx would live to bitch about it. It didn't matter to him that his comrade was in pain or that the process was taxing. He could not be described as comforting or affectionate, and 'compassion' likely wasn't in his vocabulary, but he was decent enough company, and he let Saïx cling to his sleeve and squeeze his wrist when he needed to. His support was adequate.

"Yeah, that's it. You got it. Push hard."

_Just get the shoulders out and you're done… Just get the shoulders out and you're done… _Saïx channeled all of his strength into bearing down, repeating the words in his head like a mantra. He was loud and feral, acting on pure animal instinct. He pulled himself onto his feet, settling into a squat and hoping it might move things along more quickly. He was so close. He wasn't going to let this break him now.

Xigbar braved only one glance below, wincing at the sight of it all before quickly shaking it off. "You're doing great," he smiled somewhat nervously. "Come on, man, one more. Push it the rest of the way out."

"I'm trying…"

"You can do it. Keep it coming."

_Pull it out… Please, just pull it out… _It was taking too long. He was weakening from the fatigue. Saïx started to wonder if this was a complication. What if it was stuck? What if he just wasn't strong enough to finish the job? He collected himself, preparing to throw everything he had into his next attempt. When the time came, he took Xigbar by the elbows and tried again with all his strength.

"That's right," Xigbar spoke with a hint of optimism. "You're doing it!"

"I should bloody well hope so!"

"Okay, almost got it," Xigbar muttered, actually engaged enough to watch. "Push just a little more…"

"I _am _pushing!"

Saïx couldn't see it, but he could feel it coming loose at last. He quickly reached for it, fumbling around down there until his fingers came in contact with its slippery head. He gasped, freezing in place as he came to understand what he was holding. Its almost perfectly round shape was unmistakable. The tiny outgrowths on the front and sides were just what he expected to find. It was then that it hit him. This was an infant's head. It had to be. He cradled it in his hands, barely choking back his panic as his muscles resumed their clenching.

"It's coming… Xigbar, I need a towel, now!"

"I got it, all good," Xigbar unfolded a towel and held it at the ready. "You want me to…?"

"I can do it," Saïx took a breath and pushed hard, determined to make this the last one. "Here it comes…"

It came out faster than even he had anticipated. With a final strained grunt and a heavy sigh, he felt the shoulders become dislodged and the entire thing slid out into his hands.

"There we go!" Xigbar exclaimed, beaming. "You did it!"

His vision blurred. He couldn't see a thing. He couldn't hear a sound. The chaos had dissipated and suddenly everything was eerily still. The fog cleared gradually and he was finally able to get a look at the thing, reluctant as he was. In a way, Saïx was not surprised to find that the creature he'd just given birth to was a harmless human infant. Vexen told him that it would look like one. At the same time, he was woefully unprepared for the sight of a _baby_ hanging limply in his arms. A baby that had just come out of him. For the moment, Saïx could only stare at it in utter shock, paralyzed, unsure how he should respond to everything that had just happened.

"Uh, hate to interrupt your little tender moment but it ain't breathing."

Jolted from his trance, Saïx began to panic, trying to remember what to do now. Xigbar handed him the towel and he vigorously scrubbed the infant, turning it over and giving it a few light taps between the shoulder blades. _You've made it this far, you can't give up now. Breathe, damn it. _After a tense beat, the baby emitted several productive coughs and erupted in a harsh cry.

"Crap, is it okay?" Xigbar flinched, looking oddly worried at the sound.

To his own surprise, Saïx slowly broke into a smile. "It's fine. If it's crying, it's breathing."

He gazed down at the child, kicking and squirming in his arms and wailing loudly. It certainly looked like an ordinary baby. It sounded like an ordinary baby. He examined every feature — two eyes, two ears, ten fingers, ten toes — everything was accounted for. Before he realized what was happening, his eyes began to burn and he felt a wetness on his cheeks again.

_Get it together. It's just a replica._

"Aw man, don't start crying or I will too…" Xigbar helped him shift onto his back and he laid the squalling infant on his chest. Its skin was cold. No wonder it was crying. He was supposed to keep it warm. Two minutes and Saïx was already out of his element. What were they thinking, trusting him with this creature? At this rate, it wouldn't live through the night in his care. Just as he started to panic again, Xigbar threw a towel over him, covering the freezing child. It was still crying. He thought it would stop. Frantic and a bit clueless about how to console it, he gently patted its back, shushing and whispering to it in an effort to settle it down.

"There now," he cooed. "It's alright. You can stop crying."

In its first act of defiance, the infant did not obey, continuing to cry despite Saïx's request. Bewildered, he tried again, tightening his embrace around the baby's tiny wriggling body. "Hey," he whispered sternly. "After what you've put me through, you're hardly in any position to be making demands."

Xigbar snorted at his scolding, offering no advice other than a helpless shrug when Saïx shot him a look of desperation. Running out of ideas, he poked the infant's face, trying to get its attention. "Come now, child, what is it you want?"

At this the baby paused. Saïx's breath caught in his throat as he watched the child reach for his hand and clasp its tiny fingers around his. The rotten creature. The gesture nearly broke him.

_It's not real. It's a replica. Control yourself._

"Well then," he remarked. "Was that all?"

The infant opened its eyes for the first time since its birth. Saïx was stunned by their appearance — a breathtaking teal, just like his own used to be. The child was looking right at him. He was mesmerized by its expression — wide-eyed curiosity colored with mild apprehension. But at the same time, security and familiarity. It hit him then. It really was a baby — _his _baby. This thing was his _offspring_.

"Well, don't leave me hanging," Xigbar piped up. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"It's a girl."

"Mazel Tov!" he leaned in for a closer look. "She's kinda cute."

_Kinda cute_. She was the most beautiful creature Saïx had ever laid eyes upon. No living being could compare. He couldn't stop staring at her for even a second. She opened her tiny mouth and yawned before closing her eyes again, falling asleep in his arms. He watched her in silence for a long while, not wanting to look away for an instant, as if he were afraid that she'd disappear if he did.

Xigbar scratched his head, fidgeting and heading for the door. "Alright, I'm going to get Zexion. You gonna be okay by yourself?"

"I'll be fine," he answered in a hoarse voice. He pried his eyes off of the baby for a moment, looking up at Xigbar as he stood in the doorway. There was a slew of emotions he longed to articulate. They swirled inside him so fast that he couldn't make them out. They were so strong that he almost believed them to be real. He was entirely lost for words, but if nothing else, he needed to express his gratitude. "Thanks."

Xigbar smiled. "No problem, comrade. Congrats and all that."

The door closed and he was gone. Saïx returned his gaze to the child, melting as he looked at her peaceful expression. He was probably going to catch hell from Axel when he got back. Xemnas would be positively speechless. All eyes would fall on Vexen, who would probably have no explanation whatsoever for the culmination of this months-long experiment. Saïx supposed his reputation was shot. His comrades would likely never look upon him with the same nervousness he'd grown so comfortable seeing. He could never hope to intimidate anyone with his cold, sinister glare any longer. Not after everything that had just happened. He almost made it. Months and months of holding it all in, maintaining his haunting stoicism despite the pain and fear. Pretending nothing was different, refusing to acknowledge the creature's presence. It was all for naught. This infant which he held in his arms had shattered that icy wall to pieces. The child which slept so soundly against his chest was what finally broke him.

"What are you?" he whispered to her. "Are you really human?" _Are you really mine?_

It didn't really matter what she was. She was his _daughter_. Hearing those words, even inside his own mind, was the catalyst that brought it all back. The emotions, intense and foreign as they were, plundered through him in absolute chaos. There was so much noise, so loud and grating. But when he looked upon her face, all was quiet and still. His eyes welled up. A tear fell down his cheek. Then another, and another, until he was weeping openly without any restraint. Sob after sob escaped his lips and he worried he would wake her. But for all the time he spent crying, holding her closely to his heaving chest, spilling tears onto her head, she did not stir. It was a good thing that Zexion was taking his time. Saïx wanted nothing more than to be alone with her. After some time, his crying slowed and he collapsed onto the pillow, completely drained of energy. He closed his eyes, listening to her breathe. He was drifting away, and he put forth no resistance. It had been so long since he'd been able to sleep. It was over. At last, it was over. Finally, he could rest.

_You had better still be here when I wake up._


	2. Chapter 2

There really was no reason for him to be awake. It wasn't morning. It couldn't be morning. Even if it was, he had no obligations other than to lie in his bed and rest. No meetings, no mission briefings, no duties whatsoever. Determined, he kept his eyes closed. If he could just be patient and stay relaxed, surely he'd fall back to sleep. He was just repeating the words in his head when he was struck with the realization of what they meant and what had occurred. He had fallen asleep. Fallen and _stayed _asleep. It had been so long since he'd slept, he'd forgotten what waking up felt like. Forgotten how pleasant it was to drift away. Forgotten what it was like to dream. Why, then, would his body be so cruel as to interrupt his long-awaited and well-deserved slumber?

Saïx opened his eyes slowly, lazily. The room was so dark that he could barely see the outlines of shapes in the distance. He glanced at the clock — well past midnight. For how he felt, he must have been out for days. His muscles were stiff and aching. There was an uncomfortable soreness — a burn that shouldn't be there. Not a single shred of him was spared from the painful afterimage of what he'd endured. He remembered every second, yet it was as though he'd watched it all happening to someone else. In his memory was a pitiful image of a man crouched atop his bed, writhing and squealing, crying out in anguish. Saïx hardly recognized him. It may as well have been a performance by a stranger wearing a mask of his likeness.

The last thing he could remember was the hazy sight of Axel peering down at him from above. The soothing sound of his voice speaking softly to him. There were cold hands poking and prodding at him, needles stinging his skin, bright lights in his eyes. For a moment, he wondered if it was all a dream. Just a terrible nightmare. The pregnancy, the birth, the baby… The baby. He remembered the instant he'd laid eyes on her, stunned, captivated, madly in love. He reached beside him, searching for her. There was a warm spot on the mattress, but he was alone in bed. Panic set in immediately. Had it really been a nightmare? Was none of it real? Was the soreness and exhaustion all in his head? Was the child just a figment of his imagination? He called out for Axel, praying that he was in the room somewhere.

"Lea… Lea…!"

"Shhh," Axel whispered from the darkness. "It's fine, I have her."

_She's with Axel. _Saïx heaved a sigh and sank back into his pillow. That man would never truly understand what a welcome relief it was to hear his voice. He sounded so calm in contrast to his partner's frantic calling. Axel was always so composed. He took every absurd detail of this harrowing journey in stride, wearing that same charming smile all the way. Nothing fazed him. Nothing broke him. There was nothing that he couldn't handle. Saïx watched as he stood by the window, gently cradling the baby as if nothing were out of the ordinary. He made it look so natural and so easy. Saïx couldn't help but admire the graceful silhouette of the two of them posed beneath the light of the moon, rocking and swaying like dancers in the dark.

It wasn't a dream. It really happened. Lying there, shivering beneath the sheets, naked and covered in sweat, awash in the memories and the trauma, Saïx remembered how she had come and he had broken. His body, his mind, his spirit, if he even had one. The sturdy wall he'd built around himself. The false idol he'd fashioned in his own image — the statue of stone that he'd come to accept as _Saïx. _It all lay in shards around him, exposing the vulnerable interior that he'd buried away for so long that it was no longer familiar to him. Was he really so fragile? Was he really so _weak?_

A peculiar sound distracted him. The infant was grunting and mewling in frustration. Her voice was faint and muffled, accompanied by Axel's futile attempts to console her. Saïx was drawn to her somehow, driven by an odd impulse to placate her. That soft whimpering was the meek sound of his _child_ crying out for him. She needed him. He didn't understand how, but he could sense it.

"She's crying…" he murmured. "Is she alright…?"

"She was just hungry," Axel assured him. "It's okay, I'll take care of it. Go back to sleep."

Several minutes passed before Axel was able to successfully quiet the baby's cries. Many times Saïx considered getting out of bed to take over, but his legs were locked, so numb that he feared they wouldn't bear his weight. Finally, her wails died down and her thrashing limbs became still. Axel tiptoed to the bed and carefully lowered her onto the mattress, watching intently as her eyes wandered around. It was then that Saïx got his first real look at her with his vision unclouded and his mind clear. He peered closely at her, studying her, still processing just what she was. A replica. A baby. _His _baby.

He examined her appearance, taking note of every detail as he observed. She was very small — much smaller than he would have assumed. Her tiny head fit snugly into one of his hands. Her fingers were so delicate as they curled into strong fists. Her pink skin was warm to the touch. Her eyes were wide and curious, darting back and forth between Saïx and Axel, seemingly unsure what to make of them.

"She's beautiful, Isa."

Saïx couldn't tear his gaze from her for even a second. "I don't think I'll ever tire of looking at her. She is flawless."

She opened her mouth and yawned widely, stretching her chubby arms and legs as far as they could reach. Saïx continued to be surprised by the strange reactions she awakened in him. He was endeared by every little thing she did, as if each action were a milestone to be celebrated. To think that _this _was the creature he'd carried inside him for so many months — he could never have imagined such an astonishing appearance. Every feature was an enchanting work of art, as if she were expertly chiseled from marble or painted on canvas. She was simply perfect, and not a soul could convince him otherwise.

"Zexion says she's in excellent health," Axel informed him proudly. "You did good."

As far as Saïx was concerned, he deserved no praise. He was a terrible host. He'd spent many months resenting the condition forced upon him. He was vocal in his loathing of the experiment, of his own body, and even of the resulting entity now lying beside him. He put her at great risk with his mismanagement of his own health, and when the time came for her to arrive, he panicked, lashing out in his violent berserker state, endangering his comrade, and howling and flailing with no consideration for the stress it may have put on her. Despite such errors, there she lay, unharmed, _in excellent health. _Axel smiled at him, as if he _knew _Saïx needed to hear those words. Overwhelmed by the sensation of what he could only describe as gratitude, Saïx locked eyes with him and smiled back, matching his warmth instantly. "I'm relieved to hear that."

Axel nodded and took his hand. "He said you look pretty good, too. In fact, he seemed surprised you were still in one piece. How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a train."

At this, Axel winced. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

A sharp pang of guilt struck Saïx in the center of his chest. To have pushed Axel away was his worst mistake. The only man he could get close to, the only man he could have trusted to be with him, and Saïx had made him leave, robbing the man of the opportunity to witness such a miraculous event and putting himself in even greater distress.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" his voice began to shake, much to his own dismay. "I sent you away when the pains started. It wasn't your fault." His fingers tightened their grasp. "I didn't want you to see me like that. I was embarrassed… and afraid."

"Hey," Axel cupped his chin and blotted a soft kiss on his forehead. "It's okay. I would have been, too."

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Saïx was able to see himself more clearly. His abdomen was still swollen and large. He'd been dressed in light sleepwear. The blood had all been washed away. He could only assume it had been Axel's doing, supposing Vexen and Zexion would have bolted as soon as they'd gathered their data. Axel likely hadn't left his side since returning from his mission. Perhaps he hadn't even taken breaks to eat or sleep, instead pouring all of his remaining energy into caring for Saïx and the child. Saïx wouldn't have put it past him, and his remorse only skyrocketed at the idea of such sacrifice for his sake.

He tried to decipher what he might have felt, were their positions reversed. How he might have reacted to the sight of his partner lying unconscious in a pool of blood, holding a squalling newborn infant in his arms. He would have been staggered, confused. Most of all, he'd have been worried sick. Saïx grimaced at the thought of having put Axel through such an ordeal. For unwittingly presenting him with such a gruesome image upon his arrival home. For evoking such unnecessary shock and bewilderment and fear in him. And now, for making him feel guilty.

"Isa," Axel spoke up, responding to the troubled look on Saïx's face. "I know this is a lot. It's all new and you probably feel completely overwhelmed."

Before he could stop himself, Saïx chuckled. "Understatement of the century, Lea."

"I want you to know I'm here for you," Axel reached forward and gripped his shoulder. "Anything you need."

"Thank you," Saïx glanced toward the infant who appeared to be asleep between them. "I could use the help."

They stared at her in silence for a long while, watching her sleep. She lay still and quiet, looking so peaceful. Saïx wondered if babies dreamed, and what they might dream about if they did. He'd heard that an infant in the womb could hear the voice of its mother, and would recognize it after their birth. Could this child hear his voice while he carried her? Did she, too, recognize the sound now that she'd been born? Did she know his face? Did she understand who he was and what purpose he served in her life?

"Isa…" Axel sprung him from his trance, whispering with tears in his eyes. "I love you."

Saïx gaped at him, momentarily speechless. The confession stunned him. It defied all logic, everything they knew about what they were. Nobodies. They couldn't love anything or anyone. The two of them had already battered the concept beyond all recognition. It just wasn't possible.

Saïx took a step back from it all. He'd been lax in his discipline. He'd let his memories get the better of him, losing himself in the echoes and the fantasies. But he could easily chalk it up to fatigue from the pregnancy. Sure, his resolve had slipped, but he'd caught it just in time. His attachment to the child — one which he could only have described as emotional — was merely instinctual. Nothing more. She wasn't a baby, she was a replica. She was not his biological offspring, she was just a science project. His connection to Axel was just a partnership, rooted in familiarity, necessary to ensure his well-being while he was subjected to the unusual and taxing experiment. It was all perfectly reasonable, sensible, logical.

And yet, when he looked into Axel's eyes, swimming with sentiment, he knew that his words were true. He could see quite plainly that the affection was just as real as it felt, and that Axel really did love him. His own eyes welled up as he realized that somewhere, deep inside himself, he shared those same feelings. They were as intense and vibrant as they were when he was human. They were real. Heart or no heart. Saïx loved Axel, too. He loved him with all that he had to give, everything that he was and would ever be.

"I love you too, Lea," he smiled. "I always have."

Axel was bending toward him and Saïx wanted so desperately to rush it, but instead he waited, taking his time leaning into him. Their lips brushed so lightly that he shuddered on contact. The two seemed to hesitate, hovering a breath apart and living in the anticipation. Finally, they closed the gap, pressing into each other as gently as if it were the first time. The kiss was deep and passionate, more so than any others they'd shared in the past. There was heat that hadn't been there before. Hot enough to melt the ice, but not enough to burn. Saïx wished it wouldn't end.

They were interrupted by the sound of the child whimpering again. Reluctantly, they parted and found the baby kicking and squirming. Axel sighed wearily. "_Now_ what?"

Saïx examined her, not really looking, but listening. Her voice had a shaky, warbling quality, not shrill but not necessarily timid either. Her tiny frame flailed restlessly. Something inside him suggested that perhaps she didn't want to lie down just yet. After all, Saïx was never one to waste time lazing about and doing nothing. Certainly she'd grown used to the gentle motion of his near-constant standing and walking. How jarring and uncomfortable an adjustment it must be for her now to rest only on hard, unforgiving surfaces, entirely motionless, so flat and so rigid by comparison.

"Wait, don't get up," Axel caught him by the arm just as he was preparing to climb out of bed. "You're still pretty weak. Just rest for now. I'll figure this out."

Axel lifted the baby from the bed and paced the floor for several minutes. He held her over his shoulder, bouncing her and patting her on the back as she continued to whine and fuss, unsatisfied with his coddling. "You're not still hungry, are you? I gave you the whole thing…"

Growing impatient with the noise and unable to rest while knowing that his child was upset, Saïx propped himself up, watching as Axel fumbled through his trial and error process, struggling to determine why the infant was still crying. All the while, Saïx could sense that he was missing something like a glaring signal, an obvious clue. He knew that Axel would not be successful. For lack of better phrasing, he was doing it wrong. "She doesn't sound hungry, Lea."

Axel's eyes widened. "Wait, you can tell?"

For some reason he would never be able to explain, he could. It was difficult to describe. The baby's cries were not persistent and attention-seeking. They were not practiced or deliberate like a hungry infant communicating its needs in the only way it knew how. They were not harsh and disturbing as if she were in pain. They were unsure and emotional, the sound of someone overwhelmed. They were reactive, almost frantic. As if the child were afraid.

Saïx shrugged. "I don't know, it's like an instinct, I suppose."

"Well then, Momma Wolf, tell me what she wants."

He extended his arms. "Bring her here."

Axel happily obliged, handing off the baby and climbing into bed beside them. Saïx held her closely to his chest, lightly stroking her back. "You poor thing," though he shushed her, she cried desperately into his shoulder, wriggling in his arms. If he had a heart, the sound of his daughter in such distress would have shattered it to pieces. "I know. It's all new and frightening to me, too."

The longer he listened, the more certain he was of her needs. It was such a human impulse, the desire to feel secure in a strange environment. A glimpse of familiarity in a world that was entirely foreign. She _was _afraid, and she needed to feel protected. He questioned whether simply holding her like this would be enough. Could he communicate his understanding with only a gentle brush of his fingers? Could he meet such a complex need by just being close to her?

He could recall many nights where he was just as confused, just as overwhelmed, and just as terrified as she was. In those moments, Axel had held him in just the same way. He whispered the same words and showed him the same tenderness as he put his frightened companion at ease. Though he would never have admitted it at the time, Saïx had never felt more safe than he did in Axel's embrace. If it worked on him, then surely it would work on her.

"You are just as safe out here as you were in there," he avowed, brushing her tears away. "I promise."

At last, she began to settle down. Her thrashing had lessened and her cries quieted. He stole a peek at her face, glowing beautifully in the moonlight. Her eyes gleamed, wide open as they stared at him. The image was positively breathtaking. Carrying her was exhausting and stressful. Birthing her was painful and chaotic. But he would have done it all over again. He knew it immediately without any doubt.

Finally, her enormous eyes closed and she was sound asleep in his arms. He smiled. "That's much better."

"Well, I think I might have just melted."

Saïx raised an eyebrow at Axel's comment. "What?"

"I thought you were gonna start singing."

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" He laid the child on the bed between them, resting on his side and listening to her breathe.

"You are absolutely glowing," Axel teased with a playful smirk on his face.

"I admit, I am rather attached to her," Saïx didn't even look up when he spoke. "I've never felt quite like this before."

Axel grinned. "I can't wait until she does something gross."

"It wouldn't matter."

"That's good to hear because the first time she pukes or soils herself, I'm out of here."

They shared a quiet laugh before settling into bed, only just now acknowledging their exhaustion. Although he wanted nothing more than to succumb to the fatigue, Saïx forced his heavy eyelids open, watching her, waiting for her to do something, to need something. Maybe she would wake up again soon. She could smile or laugh, roll over, speak her first word, and Saïx would never live with himself if he'd missed it. Or perhaps she would awaken to pitch darkness, alone, wondering where he was. She could be sick, hungry, or afraid, and he could no longer protect her or provide for her in quite the same way. She might need him, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her in such a state.

"You're going to have to go to sleep sooner or later, Isa."

Saïx was insistent. "What if something happens to her?"

"Nothing's going to happen to her."

"Suppose she wakes in the night and I can't hear her crying?"

"Isa," Axel reached over her and tightly clasped his hand. The room was very dark, but the reassuring smile on his face was quite clear. Just as Saïx began to protest, their hands were guided to a resting place on his abdomen. He quickly realized that he hadn't touched it since the birth. As large as it was, there was a noticeable emptiness to it now. Where he used to feel movement, warmth, _life, _now he felt only a still, cold hollowness. To his surprise, he was overcome with a bout of sadness and was unprepared for the single tear that escaped his eye and trickled down his cheek. There were many nights like this one, lying in bed together and listening to the vibration inside him. Axel would fall asleep with his ear pressed into Saïx's belly, straining to hear the mysterious voice whispering to them through his skin. Were those nights gone forever now that she had been born? Would they never be lulled by that quiet song again?

Axel caught his forlorn expression, but his warm smile never faltered. He drew Saïx's hand to his mouth and planted a kiss on his wrist. "She's just as safe out here as she was in there. Got it memorized?"

From the very beginning, it wasn't entirely clear what the purpose of this experiment really was, or why Saïx had been chosen as the test subject. The scientists practically spoke in their own language of technical jargon and nonsensical babbling. Whatever the objective may have been, the results were astounding. They'd achieved that which was assumed to be impossible: restoring emotions in a Nobody. If that was the goal, if it was all just an exercise in pushing his limits, finding that threshold and breaking him down, then it had been a rousing success. As far as he knew, he still did not have a heart, and as far as he was concerned, he didn't need one. This replica — this _baby_ — had convinced him of that without question.

But rather than beweep his broken state, he could only be grateful that Axel was there to put him back together again. He could fall apart once every day, twice every hour, ten times every minute and Axel would reconstruct him without hesitation. The child could wear him down to practically nothing and Axel would step in. He needn't worry about a thing. Axel would share the load. Axel would close the gaps. Axel would protect them both, ensuring that Saïx was perfectly safe to close his eyes and rest. Just as safe in sleep as he was awake.

* * *

Thanks to readers! I couldn't resist a little more Mommy Saix fluff. Gives me such warm fuzzies. Feel free to leave a review and tell me if you want to see more!


End file.
